


Lights

by SlytherinOwl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Lights, F/M, Firenze | Florence, Fluff, Holidays, Italy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27965300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinOwl/pseuds/SlytherinOwl
Summary: Hermione loved the lights around her, illuminating the city. And Fenrir loved seeing his witch happy.Written for Hermione's Holiday Hideaway 2020.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fenrir Greyback
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39
Collections: Hermione's Holiday Hideaway 2020





	Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Florence, Italy; Winter Light Festival

The lights were illuminating the dark December night.

Hermione was currently admiring the brightly lit streets and the lights that shone onto the Ponte Vecchio that went across the river Arno.

The city was absolutely picturesque and Hermione was determined to soak the atmosphere up.

She had come here specifically for this, after all. The Light Festival was celebrated in Florence every year. The lights and installations spanned through the whole city, from the centre to the other neighbourhoods. And Hermione loved the lights.

She loved the bright Christmas markets that happened around London each year, she adored the bright lights that lit up the Muggle homes… but this was somehow even more beautiful to her than either of these things.

Hermione pulled her hands from her coat pockets to rub them against each other and warm them up.

It was cold, but then again it was a clear December night, so she should not have been surprised and really should have packed her gloves. She did not want to use magic to warm herself up though, sometimes she enjoyed blending in with the Muggle crowd so much that she did not want to use magic or else she would feel like an imposter.

Also, usually she had someone with her to warm her hands.

Her eyes wandered around. Where was he?

She saw people, young and old, tall and small, but not her companion. He had vanished a couple of minutes ago and Hermione started to become impatient.

She knew that he could find her if she actually started walking through the streets without him, but she did not want him to have to track her down. She'd rather he experienced this festival with her from the beginning, as she wanted to do with him.

So, the question remained. Where had he gone?

It barely took another minute to have her question answered. The man walked through the crowd in her direction, towering over the other people and parting the masses like a giant would.

She would admit that he cut a quite... intimidating picture.

"There you are," she commented, her eyebrow rising.

"Had something to take care off," came his gruff reply.

"That something being..." she trailed off, looking at him expectantly.

His grin turned wolfish, his longer than strictly normal canines showing.

"Wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, would it?"

Hermione sighed and decided to drop the topic. For now.

"How do you like Italy?" She asked casually when they started making their way through the crowds. He had been here for a week longer than her.

"It's warmer than England," was all he said.

The witch rolled her eyes. "Oh please, not too much enthusiasm, or else I won't recognise you anymore."

He looked chagrined. "I miss England."

Her smile dropped. "I know. I am so sorry."

"Wasn't your fault, was it? The fact that I can't return is just... fucking frustrating."

She could understand that sentiment.

But when your name is Fenrir Greyback and the whole of the British Wizarding Society is out for your blood, you better never set foot on British soil again, and have your fingers crossed that no one comes across you when they are on holiday.

"Well, at least you've got me," Hermione joked.

"Oh yes, a witch that has broken with her government and if it continues like this also with her friends and went after her very own criminal. Lucky me." Fenrir bared his teeth at her for a second before he started laughing.

"It's all your fault," Hermione replied snottily before pushing a curl behind her ear that had come loose.

Fenrir was a man that instilled terror in wizards and witches alike. He was also a man that had found a mate in Hermione Granger, Muggleborn extraordinaire, because when his wolf had smelled her for the first time, he was a goner. And Hermione could not help the definitely unnatural attraction she felt for him either. She could not sleep, could not eat, felt as though she could not breath when he was not around. During the Battle of Hogwarts, he had protected her, and afterwards they had a moment where he explained the bond they shared. He was quite feral and she was quite scared, but this dynamic had only lasted for a short while.

He first came to visit her a few weeks later when she cleaned out her parents' house. She was exhausted because the distance between them affected her physically, and yet she was terrified of him.

It took a blood oath for her to actually let him in, but when she did, they did not look back on how things used to be.

Eventually he had to leave Britain. He was still being searched, obviously, and they knew that it would only be a matter of time before he was actually found. Hermione still cared about the crimes he had committed, but he could not change them in hindsight, could he?

So, he left Britain months ago.

Hermione had stayed, still wanting to finish her education. She felt as though she was being torn up when he left, but she did not want to leave her whole life behind and disappear with him. At least not yet. She knew that this was what would happen eventually, because she could not stay away from him forever, but she wanted to spend as much time with her friends as she could before it came to this. So they had to resort to small holidays together. On the bright side both of them had seen a lot of the Muggle world in the past few months.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Fenrir commented from her side.

She blinked and focused back on the lovely lights around them. They were the reason she had wanted to visit Florence in December.

“Sorry. Just thought about how we ended up here.” She gave him a small smile.

Fenrir huffed out a breath.

“Not happy thoughts then,” he grumbled in a low tone.

Hermione took a step closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He smelled like the forest and she inhaled and closed her eyes.

“Not unhappy either though.”

“I might have something that will cheer you up.” His voice was still low, his arms wrapped around her protectively.

“Hm?” She asked, opening her eyes again.

He gently put her arms from around his waist.

“I know I can’t return to Britain. Not as a wizard.” He looked pained. “But I also know that you don’t want to leave.” It was not a question. He knew how the thought of leaving was weighing on her.

“And I also know that my past must have consequences.”

Hermione was silent and pulled her eyebrows together.

“So, I commissioned this and picked it up earlier.” Out of the pocket of his jacket Fenrir pulled a ring.

Hermione did not understand where he was going and was about to ask, but he immediately continued.

“This ring has a permanent glamour on it. I will look different as long as I wear this. A finite won’t cancel the charms, and I was told I should always wear it.” He did not look entirely pleased. Fenrir then pushed the ring onto his finger.

His long brown hair shortened dramatically, as did his beard. His eyes turned from their distinct hazel colour to a muted grey. The features of his face shifted just enough that she still knew it was him underneath the glamour, but someone who was not used to regularly waking up next to his face would not recognise him at all.

“I won’t be able to use magic. They’ll be able to track my signature if I do. But I can be with you. Even if it means living like a Muggle. You won’t have to leave your friends behind.” His voice was serious. “We do need to come up with a new name for me though.”

Hermione stared at him for a second, amazed at how much his features had changed because of the glamour but happy that his expressions were still just so very him. And then she jumped into his arms.

He caught her, and she whispered over and over “thank you” into his ear.

They had not even seen much of the festival yet, but to Hermione the evening was already more beautiful than she had dared to hope.

Fenrir smiled and held Hermione closer to his chest. He would do anything to make his witch happy. And if it meant living the rest of his life like her pretend-Muggle-boyfriend so she would not have to leave her home behind, then so be it.


End file.
